Rebel Girl
by Eyeofathena
Summary: Nick has a question he's been meaning to ask Sabrina, but he might need to find a way out of this mess he's found himself in first... ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY AO3 ACCOUNT


They're in the woods today. There's something Farm Boy dubbed the Blob trying to kill them. So not much different from the last three hundred and forty weekends he's had since the Incident with the Dark Lord. Except for one thing – he's pretty sure he's not making it out of this one.

_"You're a rebel, Spellman. That's how I like my witches."_

Nick breathes in, he needs to be able to concentrate, can't fuck up the Latin, or they're all dead. Sabrina is still in the corner of his eye, doing something with – is that hellfire? – while he spells the entrapment. He can't focus on her though. Or they're all dead.

_"Nicholas, to be clear, I have a boyfriend"_

Had he known then? That she owned every part of him? Fuck, this wasn't supposed to go like this, and he needs to focus now. The trap has been set. He can help her now, and he's proud when he realises she doesn't need it.

_"Yes, but you also have two natures. You go to two schools. Why not date two guys? I'm down with sharing"_

He wasn't. Not even then. Not when it meant her heart wasn't his. Didn't know what it would be like to be loved by her but he wanted it. He wanted it the way you want water in the middle of a dessert. When you've thirsted for so long, and you forget what it is to not be parched. For Nick, Sabrina was like an oasis in the middle of an endless dessert.

_"You really believe in her, don't you?"_

The Blob had won some ground, and its acid started to ooze closer to Nick. Backed into a corner of trees with no recourse -yeah, he was screwed. He was fucked. He couldn't die here tonight without her knowing. "Hey Spellman!"

"What is it Scratch? Kind of busy with the giant demon over here!" Her white blonde hair flashed in the moonlight as she darted around the blob in a flurry of movement.

"How attached are you to your name?" Fuck, that wasn't what he'd meant to say.

"The name I fought the Dark Lord with you mean?" Her sarcasm was undeniable even over the squelching of the Blob.

"Then keep it. I don't care. Give me yours for all I care. As long as I have you." The words extract themselves from him, and he's lost all control. Damn it to heaven, this wasn't how he thought he was destined to die.

"Nick? What do you mean? What's going on? Are you okay?" She rushes over to him, and he suddenly realises that while he's been backed up to a tree, she's defeated yet another hellspawn that had broken free of the gates. She clears the acid surrounding him without a care. When she reaches him, all he can see is her silhouette as the hellfire blazes behind her. She's never looked so formidable to him. Or so lovely.

"Sabrina Spellman, are you aware that I've been in love with you since the day I met you?" He can't see her eyes to know exactly how she reacts as he drops to his knees before her.

"I can't be in a world where you're not by my side ever again. I won't do it, Spellman."

"Nick, what brought this on? I'm not going anywhere!" She crouches down before him, and puts her hands on his face. He can see her eyes now, the brown discs reflecting the fires around them. He fumbles with something he's taken out of his pocket. With shaky breath, he clasps his trembling hands with hers and closes her hands around the box. It was worn thin around the corners, he prays to Hell that she doesn't mind. He'd taken to carrying it with him everywhere. He thought maybe he was waiting for the right moment, or maybe just hoping she wouldn't find it in the house before he could tell her.

"Marry me". It's not so much a question so much as a prayer. He whispers it at first, then again, a little more certain, "Marry me?"

"Nick?"

"Marry me, Spellman. Marry me. Please marry me and grow old with me and love me because I keep falling more in love with you every day and I will need you for the rest of my life, whether that be the next forty minutes or the next thousand years." He's pretty sure he's crying. Or maybe she's crying. He's not sure of anything except that she isn't responding yet.

Then his head hits bark and her lips cover his. His heart is in his throat when he comes back to his senses and his hearing returns all at once. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

He fumbles with the box again and she covers his hands to steady them. The ring that emerges is the most perfect thing she could have imagined, a radiant black diamond in an ornate antique white gold setting. It fits her perfectly, and he's grateful for a conspired co-opting of her mortal friends' help so many months ago. "This was my mothers, once upon a time. When they died, this was among what was left to me. I hope you like it".

"Nick, it's beautiful. It's beautiful. I love you." Her forehead is pressed against his, he thinks she's unwilling to break the partial embrace and lose this closeness, even for a moment. Nick agrees. She swallows noisily and he feels a rush of air around him. She's teleported them back to their room. He's fairly certain this time that it's her that's crying, he can taste her tears when she kisses him again, more urgently than before, but he can feel her grinning too.

"I meant it before, about taking your name."

Sabrina blinks at him, and pulls away surprised. She's straddled over his hips now and the admission was unexpected. Then her eyes soften, and she leans forward, pinning him to the bed. He senses she'd heard the question behind the statement and loves her all the more for it. "The Spellman's would be honoured to have you as part of our family, Nicholas Scratch, but I think a better compromise is in order. If we're joining our great houses then let's give them their due honour. Spellman-Scratch works just fine. Don't you agree?"

He rolls her over then, kissing his way down her jaw, her throat, her collar bone, taking note of her reactions as he works his way down her body for the thousandth time. "You are the love of my life and I never once saw you coming, my darling"

"I do love to surprise you, Scratch, after all I am a rebel." She gasps against him and grips his hair tightly.

"Just how I like my witches" he mumbles against her soft skin as the couple let their passions claim them.


End file.
